


Careless Whispers

by a_partofthenarrative



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Love Never Dies - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Christine just wants to sleep, Erik Has Feelings, F/M, Romance, phamily pheels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 08:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19292236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_partofthenarrative/pseuds/a_partofthenarrative
Summary: Late-night musings spoken aloud can lead to dangerous territory...or the realization of dreams. As Erik discovers one calm evening on Coney Island.





	Careless Whispers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wheel_of_fish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_of_fish/gifts).



> A short piece for a prompt on Tumblr from wheel-of-fish - "Things you said when you thought I was sleeping."

He had found her in the library, stretched out on the chaise, eyes closed, mouth agape with one arm thrown carelessly above her head and a well-worn copy of  _Jane Eyre_  discarded in her lap. He felt the left corner of his mouth lift in amusement at the adorably irresistible sight before him and he stepped closer to place a hand on her shoulder before murmuring her name. "Christine."

She awoke at his touch with a start and a snort, causing the smile to creep further up his lips as she blinked up at him, eyes wide. "Go to bed, ange. It's nearly 11:30 and Gustave has been asleep for hours."

"Erik…" Even the roughness of sleep could not hide her incredulous tone. "You  _woke me up_  just to order me to go  _back to sleep_?"

"In your own bed," he clarified in a voice that suggested that his actions were perfectly reasonable. "You'll be much more comfortable, I assure you."

"I was perfectly content where I was before you barged in, thank you very much," she muttered, stretching the cramped muscles of her arm and tossing a glare in his direction for good measure. "If we are to make this arrangement work, you would do well to learn when to leave a woman alone with her dreams."

The visible brow arched high. "And do you wish to be left alone, Christine?"

She smiled through a sigh, despite herself. "Since I seem to be awake at the moment.." Sitting up, she grabbed his hand and pulled him forward and down until he was seated next to her on the chaise. She stood, ignoring his questioning eyes as she settled him against the headrest with a light push to his chest. Once he was comfortable, she seated herself between in front of him, drawing his left leg up on the cushions with a gentle hand on his thigh, finding herself cradled snugly between his long legs as a result.

Christine lifted an inquiring glance to his face and when he gave a short nod, allowed herself to lean back against his chest. "Perfect."

He couldn't help the slight chuckle that escaped him. "I am pleased that you are happy, my dear. But, are you sure you wouldn't prefer to-"

"Erik, stop," she commanded softly, nestling her head on his shoulder with a satisfied sigh. "Just hold me. Please. All I want right now is the feeling of being in your arms."

She knew he could deny her nothing- he would give her the world should she but ask- but the simplicity of her request twisted his heart and he felt his throat burn and tighten, breath staggering from the tears that threatened as he gingerly folded her within the circle his hold.

"Hmm.." Christine murmured, snuggling deeper into his embrace, drawing his right arm securely around her waist linking the fingers of their left hands together to rest on his thigh, tilting her face up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "This, right here," she admitted, tightening her grip on his hand. "This is all I need."

He could only stare down at her as she tucked her head primly under his chin, relaxing against him as her eyes fell closed. He lay stock still for several moments, content to watch the rise and fall of her stomach as she fell back into the rhythm of sleep, a series of steady inhales and exhales that served as irrefutable proof that she was not lying dead on a Coney Island dock and was  _well_  and  _alive_  and  _here_  with him.

With a heavy exhale, Erik allowed his own eyes to slide close as his head fell back against the top of the chaise. Be that as it may, his tortuous brain still mocked him with thoughts of one question that remained uncertain: Yes, Christine was here for now. But how long was "now"?

If his current situation was any indication, his mind was quick to assure him that he had nothing to worry about. After all, she had remained after her initial recovery of her own accord; he had not asked it of her. Granted, half of that reason was for fear that her answer would be negative in nature and sometimes it was better to just ride these things through until answers became necessary.

The boy certainly seemed to be adjusting well. It was rare that Erik could find a moment's peace from the lad's never-ending questions and comments, which Christine assured him only came from the boy's fascination with the elusive "Mr. Y" and his world of secret wonders.

If he were being honest with himself, he secretly found himself just as attached to his newly-discovered son and, quite frankly, relished every moment in which he acted as a magnanimous host and tour guide. Once or twice, he had caught Christine watching clandestinely from the shadow with a small smile on her lips and a suspicious sheen to her dark eyes. Of course, Gustave would question him about one matter or another and by the time his gaze sought her out again, she was gone, leaving him to wonder if he had dreamt her presence as he had for the past ten years.

That thought drew him back to the present, to a world where he lay in the library with the woman he loved nestled securely in his hold and where his son slept contentedly a floor away. If only this current moment could be his permanent reality! Surely she knew he longed for nothing else…

With a sigh, he leaned forward to rest his good cheek lightly against the dark curl of her crown. Working his fingers free of her grasp, he smoothed the hair away from her forehead, tilting his chin down to gently kiss her brow. "Oh, Christine," he whispered against her pale skin. "How I wish I could hold you like this every night. Would you let me, my love? Would you, at last, wear my ring on your hand, let me share a life with you and Gustave?"

With a sharp inhale, Erik drew her closer, held her a little tighter. "If only I had the courage to say these things to you while you wake, but I find myself too much of a coward to face the fear of any possible rejection from those beautiful lips. Forgive me, Christine. Forgive me for my selfishness, my damned weakness." His next breath was a shaky exhale as he forced the words from his throat. "Forgive me for praying you would wish to stay."

A response came, just above a whisper, jarring his senses. "Then ask me, you dolt."

Erik's eyes shot open to find Christine's staring back, an exasperated smile gracing her lovely face. "You heard?... But...but I- I thought that you were…"

"A light sleeper as I always have been" she quipped, eyes dancing, but expectant. "Go on, then" He merely blinked back, stammering slightly as she stared up at him. "Erik...look at me."

He did, eyes falling closed again as she lifted a hand to cradle his masked cheek. Summoning a courage that felt nowhere near enough, he ventured, tentatively. "Will you stay, Christine? You and Gustave... remain here with me. Please.?"

Her smile was tired, but no less dazzling as she reached up, pulling him down and tilting her chin up to meet his lips as she replied, with no hesitation, a whispered, but emphatic, " _Yes_ ".


End file.
